


An Absentee God

by dontleavealighton



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Lams - Freeform, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Revolutionary War, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 08:39:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14077101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontleavealighton/pseuds/dontleavealighton
Summary: They should have suspected the moment they were asked to see the General.They should have suspected when the General asked for them not to be disturbed.They should have known the moment they walked into that tent.-Trigger Warning: Suicide and Homophobia





	An Absentee God

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction :) feedback would be most appreciated :)

They should have suspected the moment they were asked to see the General.  
They should have suspected when the General asked for them not to be disturbed.  
They should have known the moment they walked into that tent.

"Is it true?"

They both had barely stepped foot into the cover of canvas before Washington was fixing them both with an exasperatedly disappointed look.

"That we're going to win this war? Very true." Alex was running on a high, he'd just finished explaining his plan for a financial system to John before they were called to the General's tent. And when Hamilton was on a high, he had very little sense.

Because Washington had looked at the pair exasperated before, he'd looked at them in disappointment, but never at the same time. Never without that underlying warmth of fatherly devotion.

John could feel the dread well up, coils wrapping around his chest, tightening, till he feared that his ribs would crack. Washington was looking at them with something different. And John could tell that they were both dead to the General.

"Sit." The command sent Alex quietly spluttering, of course Washington was the General, you didn't question him, his word was law, but he'd never talked to the pair like this. They both find themselves sitting straight-backed, smoothing over day old uniforms. All the while the dread John first felt had not subsided.

The General set a gaze upon the pair, before he looked down, sadness encompassing his face, before he sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"It's come to my attention, that what the pair of you have transcends moral laws. And yes, I have valued the pair of you like sons," John carefully studied the General's face, the war hardened man seemed to falter singularly before continuing, "But, as a General, I cannot let sodomy go unpunished."

A pin drop could have been heard in that tent. As realisation dawned on Alexander, and the dread finally stopped swelling within John. John chanced a glance at Alex, only to find the man as pale as a sheet. They were both dead men.

John wanted to scream, wanted to cry, beg for mercy, beg for death. He wanted to run, to stay, to kiss Alexander because fuck it, they were dead already. John could feel the tears well up in his eyes, threatening to spill. God, they'd been idiots, hadn't they? They'd gone and got caught, even though they'd been so damn careful. John wanted to fight, scream that _no, they weren't going to die because of this, they were going to live to see their glory, they weren't going to die._

Alex had spluttered out a single, gasped word. " _God._ "

And that was all Washington needed for confirmation.  
__

Before the battle, they'd agreed. Neither of them were coming back. And when it was over, but before the smoke cleared, when the air still smelt like blood and gunpowder, and you could hear the groans and screams of dying men. When the stark clarity of what men could do was still fresh for everyone to see, they made their way to the middle, ignoring the reaching hands and the begging voices. If what they had would not be forgiven, they would not forgive.

At some point tears had started to run down Alex's face, and John's chest was rising with constricted breaths. They each held a pistol, and with their free hands they held each other.

"So, this is how our world ends." Alexander ever the eloquent one could barely hold himself together. Not even meeting John's eyes. "For what it's worth, I'm glad the last face I ever see will be yours, my love."

John chokes, before gasping in a breath. They only had minutes before the smoke would clear. Only had minutes left. Together. Before the world would stop for them, but continue for everyone else.

"Oh Alex, my sweet Alex." He was spluttering the words, his hands sweaty as he reached up with one, cupping his fateful lovers face.

They fell to the ground together, bodies shuddering. John cradled Alex's head to his chest, rocking them both back softly as sobs coursed through them.

John was gasping for breath as he pulled back, face wet with tears, as he smiled at Alex, holding his head gently.

"I love you, and I will love, in this life, and the next and the next and the next, until the end of time." He could barely hold his voice together, gasping and shuddering. He swallowed once looking around, before looking back at Alexander. "I promise you, Alexander Hamilton, I will love you for eternity."

When they brought the guns up between them, fingers flexing and clenching. Hands shaking, John sobbed a laugh, he always knew he'd die in war, but he never thought his Alexander would be with him when he did. Figured it'd be in some unnamed field, and he'd be buried there. Not this, anything but this.

And maybe it was the work of an absentee god, that when they both pressed their lips together one last time, drowning each other in love, one last desperate kiss to block out the world, that they each flinched their fingers on the trigger at the same time, lead, piercing flesh, muscle, bone, brain. They shuddered and fell one last time, to the bloody grass beneath them.

 

__

 

It took them four hours to find the lost men. They only found bodies. Curled around each other, hands clasped between them, guns held between them. There was no mistaking what this was. No mistaking that the two men before them had left the world in love.

There would be no one to send for Alexander Hamilton's and John Laurens' bodies. And when Washington ordered them buried, together, nothing was left to mark the final resting places of the two young men. No memory, no legacy. Nothing. The world continued to turn, the war raged on, finished. And when Washington drew his last, he remembered two boys so bright, so passionate, so strong, that no one but he would remember.


End file.
